


Angel is a Centerfold

by lovers_and_madmen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Eventual Smut, M/M, Mutual Pining, Skin Mags, au-post high school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-10 10:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3287252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovers_and_madmen/pseuds/lovers_and_madmen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finds something surprising in a Collector's Shop, and it sends him on an adventure into his past. </p><p>Based on the J. Geils Band song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have had this cluttering my brain for nearly a year! It had to get out.

Dean loved places like this.

 

He wandered the aisles of the collectors' shop, looking through the vinyls and cassettes. He snatched up a few things to add to his box of tapes and turned down another aisle.

 

“Awesome!” He grinned as he found an entire bin of vintage issues of Busty Asian Beauties. With a spring in his step, Dean headed over and began flipping through them. He was pleased to find a wide variety of other vintage skin mags mixed in with his old stand by.

 

One by one Dean flicked through them, smiling as he went. The issues dated back as far as the mid 1950s and as recent as the early 2000s. Dean was in heaven. He plucked an issue out of the bin, holding it's place with his other hand. Turning the magazine over, Dean checked the front and back covers. Deciding against it, he moved to put it back in it's place.

 

Then he saw it.

 

Those eyes.

 

He would have known them anywhere. Dean pulled the magazine out with trembling hands and a pounding heart.

 

Even on the slightly faded cover the brilliant blue of those eyes was still so clear. That dark, messy hair. Those full, pink lips. Dean's eyes flicked up to the date. September, 1997.

 

“You gotta be shitin' me!” That was the fall after graduation.

 

Dean's eyes raked over the cover. In an instant, he was back in that room.

 

 

 

He sat, slumped in his desk, in the back corner of his senior English classroom. It was stuffy and hot and Dean wanted to be anywhere else. Until those blue eyes walked in.

 

Castiel Novak.

 

Dressed in perfectly fitting khakis, a white t-shirt and a soft, blue sweater that matched his eyes, Castiel made his way toward Dean. Suddenly, it was even hotter in there and Dean almost contemplated taking off his leather jacket. He watched as Castiel slid into the seat one up from him in the next row. He couldn't help the way his eyes were drawn to that firm ass as Castiel slipped down onto the chair. Dean shifted in his own seat, with a huff.

 

Castiel glanced at him over his shoulder. He blinked those wide blue eyes slowly. Dean swallowed hard.

 

“Alright, gang,” the teacher said, snapping their attention back to the front of the classroom, “pop quiz.” The class groaned collectively as the teacher passed out the tests. One desk at a time, they were passed backward.

 

Castiel met Dean's eye once again as he turned to hand a test to the girl seated behind him. He smiled shyly and Dean quirked the corner of his mouth up in response. He leaned forward in his seat to stem the flow of blood.

 

Dean looked down at the sheet in front of him.

 

_List five items Boo Radley leaves in the tree for Jem and Scout._

 

Dean began writing.

 

_Gum_

_Pennies_

_Twine_

_Carved soap_

 

He was screwed. He hadn't been able to read the assigned chapter last night. Sam had been up sick and Dad was gone. Again. Dean spent the whole night emptying Sam's puke bowl. He stared down at the paper.

 

Dean could tell someone was watching him.

 

He looked up to see Castiel staring at him through his long lashes. Something of Dean's frustration must have shown on his face. Castiel glanced to the front of the room where the teacher was turned to the board, writing notes for class. He turned back to Dean and reached his hand out.

 

There was a small slip of paper in his hand.

 

Quickly Dean reached for it, brushing his fingertips along Castiel's wrist. He felt one hard pulse before he pulled his hand back. Looking back up to make sure the exchange had gone unnoticed, Dean unfolded the paper.

 

There, in neat, slanted writing were written the answers.

 

_Pieces of chewing gum_

_Indian head pennies_

_A ball of gray twine_

_Two portraitures carved in soap_

_A pack of gum_

_A Spelling Bee medal_

_A broken pocket watch_

_A knife on a chain_

 

Dean looked up at Castiel again. He smiled gratefully at him and watched as a tempting blush spread up his cheeks.

 

“Alright,” the teacher called, “make sure your names are on them and pass them forward.”

 

Dean quickly wrote down a final item and passed the paper up. He tucked the note deep inside the pocket of his coat.

 

When class was ended, Dean leaped out of his seat and bolted from the room. He didn't go far, though. Leaned up against the lockers just down the hall from their classroom, Dean waited for his blue-eyed savior to appear. He was one of the last to leave the room. Dean called to him as he passed.

 

“Cas!”

 

Castiel stopped dead in his tracks. He turned slowly to face Dean as he approached.

 

“Hello, Dean,” he whispered in his low, rumbling voice.

 

“I, uh...,” Dean cleared his throat, “wanna say thanks. It was kind of a rough night last night, and I didn't get a chance to do the reading.” He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets.

 

“I'm sorry to hear that, Dean,” Cas offered.

 

“Yeah, well,” Dean shrugged again, “anyway...Thanks for that. You're an angel.” Dean clapped a hand to Cas' upper arm, letting his hand slide down the sleeve of that blue cashmere sweater. Castiel's face flushed again, and he ducked his head.

 

“You're welcome,” he mumbled, looking up at Dean through his lashes. Without thinking about it, Dean licked his lips, pulling the lower one into his mouth and biting down on it gently. Castiel's eyes went wide, tracking the movement, and he inhaled sharply. “I...I have to...,” and just like that, he was gone down the hallway.

 

 

 

Dean looked back at the cover of the magazine in his hand. Delicately, he opened the pages, flipping through until he found it.

 

There was Cas.

 

Dressed in nothing but a pair of blue, satin panties and a set of angel wings, his dick hard and straining at the silky fabric.

 

For a moment, Dean thought he would pass out. He closed the magazine. He couldn't look at any more of it. Not here.

 

Those eyes had plagued his fantasies for far too long to keep staring in public at the photographic evidence of how gorgeous that man really was. Dean marched to the front of the store and handed the magazine to the redhead in the pac-man t-shirt behind the counter.

 

She nodded at the selection, scanned it, and slipped it into a bag.

 

“Nice choice,” she smiled at Dean.

 

“You have no idea,” Dean replied taking the bag from her. Without another word he slipped out the door and climbed into his Impala.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finally gets a chance to look at his magazine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ideas for several of the photos described were taken from actual photos of our favorite angel. 
> 
> Yum.

Dean rode for over three hours with the magazine next to him on the seat, tucked away in it's glossy bag. He glanced down at it now and again, eager to get to his destination and pull it from the dark confines of the black plastic that was keeping Cas hidden from him. 

At last, Dean pulled into a dive motel somewhere in eastern Colorado. He booked a room for the night, hauled in his duffel bag and locked the door behind himself, black bag in hand. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he made his obligatory call.

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean said briskly. “Made it to fuck-all Colorado. Stopping for the night.” Sam laughed at his brother.

“You didn't even bother to check the name of the city you're staying in, did you?” he chided jokingly.

“Nope,” Dean set the black bag down on the bed gently. “Don't know, don't care. Just passin' through here, Sammy.” He pulled a fifth of whiskey from his duffel. “I should be back home by about two tomorrow.”

“Make sure you let me know when you get there,” Sam said kindly.

“I will, ya bitch,” Dean chuckled. 

“Jerk,” Sam retorted. Dean could hear his smile. Sam's voice turned fond. “Thanks for coming out, Dean. It was really good to see you.” 

“You too, Sammy,” Dean nodded, “I'll talk to you tomorrow.” They hung up and Dean tossed his phone down on the nightstand. 

Moving to the bathroom, he grabbed one of the wrapped plastic cups. He slipped his jacket from his shoulders and toed off his boots. His pulse quickening, Dean poured himself a couple fingers of whiskey and moved toward the bed. 

He stared at the black bag for a moment. It's presence in the room was nearly as heavy as if the man himself were there. Slowly, he sat down on the bed, setting his cup down next to his phone. He clenched his hands a few times before wiping his palms on his jeans. 

Gingerly, as though he were afraid his dreams would crumble in his hands, he slid the magazine from the bag. 

Castiel Novak's face peered up at him from the cover. He was dressed only in a pair of blue jeans with all the buttons of the fly pulled open. The light dusting of dark hair that trailed down into the hidden depths of those jeans made Dean's mouth go dry. He grabbed up the cup and took a steadying swallow.

The thumb of one of Cas' hands was hooked in the back of the low riding waistband of his jeans, the other hand was carding through the wild mess of hair on top of his head. His lips were parted slightly and his blue eyes squinted ever so slightly.

Dean felt the heat swirling low in his stomach and the blood pooling in his groin. He shifted his hardening cock with one hand. With a deep breath, he opened the magazine. Flipping past ads and other models, Dean paused when he came to the first of Castiel's photos. 

He licked his dry lips as he took in the picture of Cas, in the jeans still, but with both hands lifted above him, gripping the top of a door frame. The long, lean lines of Castiel's body showed clearly and his gaze was turned down. He was smiling. It was as if someone had just tried flirting with him and, bashful as Dean knew he was, he could only duck his head, flattered but unsure. 

The next photograph featured Cas, on his back on what looked like an expensive rug. His firm abs were flexed, and his shoulders and feet pressed into the floor while his torso and hips were lifted high. Dean's eyes followed the line of his arms down to the waistband of the jeans. Castiel was pushing them off and the full curve of his bare ass had slid out of the fabric.

It was enough to bring Dean's cock to full attention. Shifting again, Dean turned the page. 

He came face to photo with a picture of Cas in the panties. 

The pale blue satin shined just like Castiel's oiled skin. The large, white wings looked like something he'd stolen from a Victoria's Secret model. Cas was leaned forward, perched on the arm of a plush, leather sofa, his legs spread to either side of the arm, and his hands braced in front of him. He looked like he was ready to pounce. Or be pounced. His eyes were bright, intense, and staring directly at the camera. His full lips were set in a firm line. There was so much hidden in that gaze. So much intensity and passion Dean could hardly handle it. He couldn't look away from those blue eyes.

Dean was hypnotized by that gaze. Castiel looked like a warrior. Angel wings or not. 

It was too much. Dean's cock hurt from being trapped in the confines of his jeans. Quickly, he popped the button and tugged the zipper down, shifting the denim to release his aching hard on. He had started to leak, and a small, dark spot of precum stained his tented boxer-briefs. 

Dean shifted his gaze to the next photo. It was the one Dean saw in the Collectors' Shop. In it, Cas was leaned back on the seat of the sofa, his wings framing him softly, and his legs spread to show off the panties. Dean drank in the image, taking note of every detail. The little white bow at the front of the waistband, the way his sharp hipbones jutted out from the top of the panties, the way the satin stretched over Cas' firm cock, the fact that Dean could tell he was circumcised, the flush on his cheeks and chest.

Dean felt himself leak more, spreading the spot in his shorts. Unable to resist any longer, he stroked his fingers up the length of his shaft, moaning low as he did. His eyes moved hungrily to the next photo. 

Castiel was kneeling on the couch, leaned forward over the arm and looking back over his shoulder at the camera. His wings were gone now, and his perky ass was perfectly on display for the camera, the blue satin drawn tight over his firm cheeks. A look of surprise graced the arched brow and full lips of his flushed face. Dean couldn't help but think he'd just been spanked unexpectedly. It made him throb with longing. 

His eyes traced the smooth line of Cas' glutes, following the curve down to the slightly spread, toned legs below. Dean remembered watching those legs.

Castiel had been part of the Cross Country team in High School. Their senior year he was the team captain, and they would run past the Winchester & Sons Auto Shop in the afternoons; Cas leading the way. Dean would watch him as he passed, drinking in the sight of those long, powerful legs and the sweat damp clothing that clung to Castiel's body. He would gaze after him until he was well out of sight. 

But only when his old man wasn't around. 

Eager for more, Dean turned the page.

His breath caught in his throat at the next photograph. 

Castiel was stretched out along the length of the leather couch, one knee bent up, the other bent and fallen to the side. One arm was thrown up over the arm of the sofa, the other tucked in to his chest, his fingertips dragging across his full pink lips. 

Dean's eyes traveled the length of Cas' body. Stopping at the panties.

“Holy fuck!” he breathed.

The head of Cas' hard cock peaked out the top of the panties. It was red and shiny and Dean wanted to lick it until Castiel Novak came apart. 

Reaching his other hand down, inside his shorts, Dean tugged his cock free. It was pulsing in his hand, and he knew he was close already. He gave it a few firm strokes, letting his orgasm build, but let go before he peaked. 

He wanted more.

Turning the page, Dean reached the centerfold. Some part of him wanted to wait. To save it. To keep it a surprise for the next time. But he couldn't hold back. He had dreamed of seeing Castiel like this for nearly a decade. 

With trembling hands, Dean opened the page one fold at a time. 

Dean revealed Castiel's head. The camera angle had changed to show the length of Castiel's body vertically along the page, though Cas was still stretched out on the couch, one arm thrown over his head. His head was thrown back, eyes closed, mouth wide. His neck was taut and the hand above his head was clenched in his hair. The muscles in his shoulders were flexed tight. 

Dean unfolded the next section. 

Cas' bare chest, flushed and oiled, with perfect, erect nipples was arched up. Dean could see the goosebumbs along the sides of his lithe frame. His arm, muscles flexed, stretched down the front of his torso, his hand disappearing below the next fold. 

Dean could guess where it was. His breathing had turned to shallow pants as he braced himself for the final reveal. 

He let the bottom of the page drop, revealing the rest of Castiel's body.

“Oh, god! Cas!” Dean moaned at the sight.

Castiel was fully naked, his legs spread wide, and his knees bent up. The camera had captured everything. 

Cas' hand was wrapped around his red, swollen cock in mid stroke. He was thick and long, curving up toward his stomach. A dark patch of closely cropped curls nestled at the base and his balls were drawn up tight. He was just about to cum. 

Dean could feel his own orgasm barreling toward him, despite the lack of friction. 

He held the magazine up in front of him with one hand, gripping himself firmly with the other. He stroked roughly up and down his aching length. 

“Cas...,” Dean panted at the picture, moving it to the side. He stroked up again, flicking his thumb across the slit. A spike of pleasure jolted though him, and he teetered on the edge. He stroked again, firmly. “Oh, fuck! CAS!” Dean came so hard, his body curled in on itself as his release shot from him. Hot, white stripes coated his stomach and chest, splattering across the logo of his AC/DC shirt. 

Dean stroked himself through the waves of pleasure, relaxing into the mattress below him as they faded away. 

Holding up the magazine again, Dean studied Castiel's face. It was mesmerizing. He wanted to know what it sounded like when Cas looked like that. 

Folding up the page, Dean resolved himself to find out. 

Soon. 

And often. 

After all, he knew exactly where to find Castiel Novak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want a copy of this magazine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean goes to see Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So glad people are enjoying this fic

Dean pulled up outside the library in his home town of Lawrence, Kansas. He killed the engine of the Impala and turned off the headlights. He sat in the dark car as the early spring chill seeped inside.

Watching through the large picture windows, Dean saw the unmistakable form of Castiel Novak moving through the stacks, reshelving books. He looked incredible. Dressed in dark jeans, a white button up with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, a bright red tie and a dark, form fitting vest, Castiel looked like he had just stepped out of GQ. He turned to an elderly woman who had approached him, nodding his head as he listened to her speak. Smiling gently at her, Castiel turned and lead the way to another section.

Dean took a deep breath, his heart hammering in his chest. He hadn't been inside a library in years. Not since he used to come pick Sam up after he was done working. Sam always told him he didn't have to come in, that he'd wait outside for Dean. Dean waved him off, telling him it was no big deal. Sam just looked at him flatly, a knowing glint in his eyes.

Sam.

Shit!

Dean had never called him when he made it back into town.

As if on cue, Dean's phone rang, loud and shrill in his pocket.

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffed, “I know. I forgot to call.” Dean climbed out of the car, “but I'm fine. I made it back to town about one.”

“You're such a jerk,” Sam laughed. “Seriously, it's almost nine. What were you doing that you couldn't take two minutes to call me?”

“Geez, ya whiny bitch,” Dean chuckled, “can't a guy take a nap? Get some groceries? Shower? Eat?” Dean could almost hear Sam's bitchface.

“Whatever,” Sam conceded, “I'm just glad you're safe. What are you up to now?” Dean turned back to the windows of the library. He tracked Castiel's movements with his eyes.

“Uh,” Dean was distracted, “gonna get something to eat.”

“I thought you already ate?” Sam's confusion drew Dean back to the phone call.

“Yeah, uh,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, “like four hours ago.”

“Well, just be safe. I know what it means when you go out to eat at nine o'clock on a Saturday night, Dean,” Sam chided.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean rolled his eyes, “I promise, I'll be...,” Dean looked back up at Castiel through the window, “careful.”

“Alright,” Sam sounded mollified, “I'll talk to you soon.”

“Okay, Sammy,” Dean started toward the entrance, “say 'hi' to Jess for me.” Dean hung up just as he reached the library doors. The elderly woman Castiel had been helping was headed out and he held the door for her. She smiled sweetly at him as she passed, offering up a gentle 'thank you, young man' on her way.

Dean hoped the gesture would bring him some good will from the powers that be as he entered the library. He looked around, not seeing Castiel immediately. Stepping farther into the lobby, Dean looked down the isles one by one.

Finally, he saw him.

Castiel was crouched down, his back to Dean, restocking books on the lowest shelf. Dean moved up behind him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to be able to actually talk.

“Heya, Cas,” he smirked at the dark head of messy hair.

Castiel's entire body went stiff and he froze. Dean slid his hands into his front pockets, waiting for a response – any response – from the man. Slowly, Castiel, still crouched down, turned toward Dean.

Dean's heart skipped a beat at the piercing blue eyes, blown wide in surprise, that stared up at him. Castiel's lips were parted, a look of shock on his face. The corner of Dean's mouth twitched up in greeting at the man below him.

Castiel pressed his lips shut and swallowed hard, blinking up at Dean. Dean's cock gave a twitch of longing as he watched Castiel's sweet, pink tongue peek out to wet his lips.

Two books still in hand, Castiel rose to his feet. He pulled the books in against his chest, and Dean smiled at the familiar gesture. Cas used to do that in High School.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas' low voice rumbled. Dean had to shift slightly at the sound. They stood there for a moment, just staring at each other. Eventually, Castiel tilted his head to the side, his brow furrowing. “What are you doing here?”

Shit! What was he doing there? He hadn't really thought past seeing Cas. Now that he was there, he wasn't sure what to do next. He opened his mouth to speak, his lips attempting to form words, but none came out. After floundering a bit, he shrugged his shoulders and smiled as if it were no big deal that he, Dean Winchester, were at the library. Voluntarily.

Castiel looked at him skeptically as he turned back to the cart of books.

“I, uh,...,” Dean began, moving to the opposite end of the cart, “just thought I'd stop in,” he finished lamely. Castiel wasn't buying it.

“Dean, you haven't been in here in years,” Cas shook his head as he returned to restocking.

“You keepin' tabs on me, Cas?” Dean smirked. Cas ducked his head – another familiar gesture – and furrowed his brow again. “Aw, come on, Cas,” Dean quipped. It was time to test the waters. “Don't get your _panties_ in a bunch.” Dean tried to keep his face a neutral sort of amused, but he knew his eyes were burning with the truth.

Castiel's gaze shot up to Dean for a split second. He looked back at the books in his hand, as a flush spread up his face. It was gorgeous and Dean wanted to know what the rest of Cas' body looked like when that happened. Cas' centerfold photo burst into his mind again, and Dean worried he would have to make a break for it if his cock got any more interested.

Grabbing the cart, Castiel shoved it toward Dean, moving farther down the isle to restock elsewhere. Dean dodged out of the way, but he wouldn't give up that easily.

Dean followed behind him, stopping when Cas did. He folded his arms and leaned a shoulder against the shelves.

“Why are you here, Dean?” Cas repeated, harder. Dean watched him for a moment. He knew there was only one way to get through to Cas. He had to be honest.

“I wanted to see you.”

Cas froze again, a book halfway to the shelf. Dean watched his chest heave as his breath picked up. Recovering himself, Castiel slid the book into it's spot.

“Why?” It was small and unsure. He wouldn't look at Dean.

Dean licked his lips. Why, indeed? To see if he could get Cas naked? Into bed? See him like he had been in the magazine? Yes!

And no.

It was more than that. Dean couldn't put it into words. He didn't know how. He shrugged.

“You seem like a cool guy, Cas,” he offered.

“Dean, I work at a library. I collect silent films, and I have a cat,” Castiel retorted. He turned to look at Dean flatly, “I hardly think that qualifies me as 'cool'.”

“Maybe not the cat...,” Dean smirked. Castiel rolled his eyes, pushing the cart around the corner and down the next isle. “Seriously, though,” Dean tried again, rubbing the back of his neck, “I thought...maybe...we could hang out?”

Castiel's reshelving became more forceful.

“In the twelve years I've known you, Dean, you've never wanted to 'hang out' before.” Dean couldn't help but smile at Cas' air quotes. “What changed? Why now?” Dean licked his lips thoughtfully. Strictly speaking, that was far from true. He had never asked Cas to hang out; he was way out of Dean's league. Besides, Dean didn't even know if Cas was in to dudes. Either way, it wasn't that he didn't want to hang out with Cas.

“Let's just say...,” he ventured slowly, pointedly as Cas picked up another stack of books, “I...remembered what an _angel_ you were.” Cas turned his unsure gaze to Dean and Dean held it firmly. Cas searched his face with trepidation. Dean knew it was now or never. He smiled mischievously, his eyes shining. “Still got those fluffy wings?”

Castiel's eyes went wide as he gasped and the stack of books in his arms went tumbling to the ground. He was crimson in an instant, diving to retrieve the tomes he had spilled. Dean stooped to help him, and Cas refused to meet his eye.

“I think you should go now,” Cas' voice was shaking.

“Cas-,” Dean began, gently, dropping a hand on his arm. Cas' movements stilled, though Dean could feel him trembling beneath his touch. Clenching his eyes shut, Castiel tipped his face toward the floor.

“How-?” Cas' voice was barely more than a whisper. “Where did you-?... Did y-...did you see them...all?”

“All of them that were in September '97,” Dean laughed gently. Cas squeezed his eyes shut tighter, rubbing a shaking hand across them.

“You should go, Dean,” Cas said firmly, “the library closed at nine.” Without looking at Dean, Castiel stood up and turned, walking down the isle away from him. Dean heaved a sigh and stood up, heading toward the door.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thrive on your comments. Please let me know what you think so far!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is tenacious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm an idiot, and I COMPLETELY forgot to tell you to check out my tumblr page for the photos that inspired the ones described in chapter two. Go take a look at them!
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/iheardtherewaspie

 

Dean leaned against the driver's side door of his '67 Impala with his hands in his coat pockets, watching the lights in the library go out one by one. Despite the clear dismissal from Castiel, Dean wasn't ready to give up. It had taken him eight years to work up the courage to approach him, he wasn't going to back down now.

 

He stood up when he saw Cas coming out the front door. Dean moved toward him as he locked the doors of the building behind him. Castiel turned around, a look of surprise on his face. When he realized who it was, however, his brow furrowed and his shoulders hunched as he curled in on himself. Dean wanted to grab him and kiss that frown away.

 

“Cas-,” he tried again.

 

“Go away, Dean,” Cas' voice was firm as he wrapped his tan trench coat tighter around himself, crossing his arms protectively.

 

“Cas, please,” Dean reached out, grabbing hold of Cas' arm and pulling him to a stop.

 

“What, Dean?!” Cas nearly shouted, wrenching his arm free, “you saw the pictures. Congratulations! Why did you come here?” He waited for Dean to respond. When he could do nothing more than open his mouth, dumbly, Cas cut in again, his voice angry and loud in the still, night air. “Did you think you could just come here and see it for yourself?! That, since I did it in front of a camera once, I'd do it for you, no questions asked?! Is that what you wanted from me, Dean?! A chance to fuck me, then go about your life always being able to say you'd nailed a centerfold?!”

 

“No!” Dean shot back. “That's not-...You don't even know what you're talking about, Cas!”

 

“Well, then, enlighten me,” Castiel spat at him. Dean shifted, trying to form the words. How could he just own up to the fact that he'd been head over heels for Cas since his junior year? That he didn't know how to deal with it? That his father had made him terrified of himself and who he truly was? That those pictures had given him the push he needed to finally _do_ something? Castiel waited for an answer, but Dean couldn't speak. “Very convincing,” derision dripped from Castiel. He turned and stomped down the sidewalk.

 

“I didn't know how!” Dean shouted into the dark sky, throwing his arms wide. Castiel stopped, turning back, the frown still firm on his face. “I didn't know how to talk to you,” Dean sighed. “Jesus, Cas, have you seen you? Why the Hell would you wanna bum around with a loser like me?” He rubbed a hand down his face. “Yeah, I shoulda come talk to you before now. I just...couldn't.” He heaved a sigh, shaking his head. Shoving his hands back into his pockets, he headed toward his car.

 

“Dean...” Cas said tentatively, “I don't understand.” The malice was gone from his words, but his arms were still folded around himself. Dean stopped where he was, tilting his head up to the night sky once more, and took in a deep breath of the chilly air. Letting it out on a sigh, he turned back to Cas.

 

“Cas,” he shook his head, “I've had a thing for you for _years_.” Cas' eyes went wide. Dean pulled his hands out of his pockets, spreading his arms in defeat. “I didn't know-...” he shifted uncomfortably, “I didn't know if you swing that way, and I...didn't wanna freak you out. Hell,” Dean laughed, mirthlessly, “ _I_ was freaked out.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “Look, I'm sorry. I maybe shouldn't have lead with the whole centerfold thing.” He shook his head. “I don't know. It just...made me realize what I'd been passing up for so long.”

 

“You mean sleeping with me?” Cas' tone was flat, almost disappointed.

 

“No, Cas,” Dean scowled. “I mean the...passion. There was so much fire, so much spirit in your eyes in those pictures. There always was. I just didn't want to let myself see it. For so long I just...tried to shut it out. Tried to ignore it. Seeing you like that, though,” Dean closed his eyes, remembering the intensity in Cas' gaze. “I couldn't get back here fast enough.”

 

“Back?” Cas was thrown off.

 

“From California. I was visiting Sammy. I stopped at a hole in the wall collectors' place just inside Colorado on my way home. That's where I found...” he let the rest trail off with a tilt of his head. “I stopped overnight in Colorado. Just got back to town this afternoon.” He looked down at his boots, scuffing the ground. “Took me a while to work up the nerve to come over here.”

 

Cas took a tentative step toward him, hugging himself tighter.

 

“What do you want from me, Dean?” he shook his head, his voice low and tired. Dean clenched his jaw as he struggled to get the words out.

 

“A chance,” he said, looking up at Cas. He hoped the desperation he felt didn't show too much on his face, though he could hear it in his voice. “Let me take you out,” Dean pleaded. “Give me the chance to get to know you. I...I know I don't deserve it, especially after this...but...” he sighed. “Just give me a chance, Cas.”

 

He watched the muscles in Cas' jaw jump as he thought over Dean's request. Finally, he gave a stiff nod at Dean without meeting his eye. A hopeful smile broke across Dean's face, lighting it up. It was infectious, and when Cas looked up he couldn't help the small smile that stole across his own features.

 

Dean held out an arm toward the Impala and Cas moved toward it, his own arms still firmly locked around him. Dean reached the passenger door, unlocking it and pulling it open for Cas. When the dark-haired man slid into the seat, he glanced up at Dean through his lashes. Dean's heart beat a quick tattoo in his chest as he closed the door behind Cas and hustled to the driver's side. Cas had reached across the seat to unlock Dean's door and Dean chalked that up to a win: Cas had finally unwound his arms.

 

Dean hopped into the driver's seat and started the engine. He was almost certain he heard a quick gasp from Castiel as the engine roared and shivered to life. Dean smiled to himself.

 

“Where to, Cas?” he asked. Cas just looked at him, head tilted and brow furrowed in confusion. Dean chuckled at the look. “You pick. I'm buying.” Cas just stared at him. Dean licked his lips, drawing the lower one in and biting down on it gently. Cas' eyes went wide, and his lips slipped apart. He turned to look out the windshield, and Dean watched as he swallowed hard.

 

“Benny's?” Cas said, his voice shaking slightly. Dean nodded.

 

“Benny's it is,” he smiled, pulling out of the lot. “I know the owner. He's a good friend of mine. He'll hook us up.”

 

“Oh,” to Dean's ears, the word sounded hollow. Strained. He glanced at Cas who was still staring straight ahead.

 

What was that supposed to mean?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of your wonderful comments and support! I really just had to get this fic off my chest. I'm so pleased you are enjoying it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean takes Cas to dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are enjoying this work! Here's a bit of more for you. :)

 

Dean and Castiel walked into the small, dark restaurant and grabbed a booth along the large front window. They had barely sat down when the deep, cajun drawling laugh reached them.

 

“Well, well,” Benny sauntered over, “look what the cat drug in. Haven' seen you in a while, brotha'.” Benny's smile was greedy. Too knowing. Cas shifted in his seat and Dean looked over at him, his face flushing slightly. Benny caught on quickly, noticing the man sitting stiffly across from Dean. His brows drew up and his smile changed to one of amusement. “Winchester, you fin'ly grew a pair.” He dropped two menus down on the table and crossed his arms as he smiled smugly at Dean. Cas' eyes darted from Dean's blushing face to Benny's triumphant one.

 

“Shaddup,” Dean griped, grabbing a menu.

 

“What'll ya have, boys?” Benny asked, looking between them. Dean picked up the beer list tucked between the salt and pepper shakers.

 

“Oatmeal stout,” Dean said definitively. Benny nodded at him.

 

“May I have an Oberon, please?” Cas asked politely.

 

“Sure thing, champ,” Benny grinned, winking. The bear of a man turned and walked away from the table, whistling.

 

An awkward silence settled over them, and neither one of them made eye contact. After a few minutes, Dean cleared his throat.

 

“So,” he clasped his hands on the table in front of him. “You, uh...you still run?” Cas finally met Dean's gaze.

 

“Yes,” he nodded, eyes wide in surprise, “I do.” He glanced back down at his lap, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. Shifting shyly in his seat, Castiel glanced up at Dean again. “How did you know I was a runner?” Dean laughed out loud. Cas' eyes shot up to him.

 

“How could I _not_ know, Cas!” He shook his head. “you ran by my family's auto shop every day senior year.” A fond look came over him, and he lost himself in the memory. “Used to watch you run by, leading the rest of 'em. They could hardly keep up with you! I'd stand there staring, even after you were gone.” A cloudy look came over him then. He shut down immediately, his jaw clenching shut and brow furrowing.

 

“Dean?” Cas' coaxed. “What is it?” Dean waved his hand dismissively, then folded them both in front of himself on the table. Cas reached over, placing a hand on Dean's. Dean swallowed hard, soaking in the warmth of Cas' touch. He met Cas' eye. There was a gentle look there. Dean knew if he wanted this, he had to be honest with Cas. And with himself. He heaved a deep breath, steeling himself to explain.

 

“Here ya go, boys,” Benny set their drinks down in front of them. Cas pulled his hand back. “Know whatchu wanna eat?” Benny drawled as he wiped his hands on his apron. Dean and Cas never looked away from one another.

 

“Usual,” Dean all but whispered, eyes still locked on Cas.

 

“Same,” Cas nodded, his gaze intense and expectant, still staring into Dean's eyes. Benny looked from one to the other of them, his brows raising. When neither of them said anything more or even looked at him, he turned and walked away.

 

Dean looked down at his hands. Cas slid his hand back over Dean's.

 

“Dean?” Cas prompted. Dean licked his lips then clenched his jaw. He glanced up at Castiel.

 

“Let's just say,” Dean bit, “my old man didn't exactly like the idea of me pining after the captain of the boys' cross country team.” He laughed bitterly. “He didn't like the idea of me pining after _any_ guy.” Dean's jaw clenched again. He growled, more to himself than to Cas, “got the scars to prove it.”

 

Cas gasped at that, his eyes wide with concern. He gripped Dean's hand tightly, and Dean opened his palm, letting Cas' fingers slide into it. He squeezed Cas' hand and released it, reaching for his beer. Cas followed suit.

 

“Listen, Cas,” Dean rubbed a hand down his face, “I'm sorry. This isn't really how I saw this going.” He raised his brow, shaking his head. “I didn't mean to pour all that shit out on you.” He dropped his head, staring down into the depths of his beer. A long silent moment passed between them. They sat with the sounds of the diner humming around them. Dean started to slip into the dark corners of his own mind when Cas' voice reached him.

 

“I did that photo shoot for you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Gasp!*
> 
> He said WHAT?!
> 
> Oh my sweet Heavens! 
> 
> What do you think?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas explains. 
> 
> Dean's head spins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is SUPER short, but I'll make it up to you with the next one.

 

Dean's head was reeling.

 

It had hardly been a whisper, and Dean wasn't even sure it had been spoken for sure. He looked up at Cas.

 

His face was flushed and ducked down. He rubbed at the back of his neck, his eyes blinking rapidly. Dean's own eyes were wide with shock. His mouth went dry and his palms started to sweat.

 

“What?” Did he hear that right? Did Castiel Novak just tell him that he did a dirty magazine photo shoot for _HIM_?! He leaned forward across the table.

 

“Say that again?” Dean said slowly.

 

Castiel's breathing quickened and grew shallow. He swallowed hard.

 

“I...” Cas whispered again, “I did that photo shoot...for you.” He tugged at his sleeve once more.

 

“Whaddya mean, Cas?” Dean pursed his lips, brow drawing down. Cas shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

 

“After graduation,” Cas began, “I moved away.” Dean nodded. He knew Cas had left for a while, but he didn't know why. “I went to San Francisco. I'd been offered a chance to show a couple of photographs of mine at a gallery there. Things were good. At first. Then my savings dried up and...Well, desperate times call for desperate measures. I had done the photos myself. Partly to explore lighting and subject mater, but partly to...well...” he blushed as he looked down at his hands, "I enjoyed doing it. Thinking...thinking you were there. Watching." Dean froze. Cas took a long swig of his beer. “This guy, Crowley, he offered me enough money for the photos to get myself home.” He shrugged, embarrassment settling over him. “So I did it. He told me to imagine that they were going to someone I'd _want_ to see me like that.” He wrapped his hands around his beer and Dean took a swig of his own. “So... I imagined it was you. I imagined I was giving them just to you.”

 

Dean choked on his beer.

 

“You-...you were imagining _me_?”

 

“Um...” Cas shifted again. “Yes.” He cleared his throat. “I... _do_ , in fact, 'swing that way'. And...” he looked up at Dean through his lashes. His eyes were dark and hungry. “I've had a thing for you since I moved here, freshman year.”

 

Dean couldn't move. Couldn't even breathe. Was this for real?

 

He flinched when Benny set their plates down in front of them.

 

“You fellas need anythin' else?” Benny asked. Cas' gaze bored into Dean and he was trapped in it, his pupils blown wide with arousal. They ignored the burgers sitting in front of them, eyes locked on one another once again.

 

“Boxes,” Castiel rumbled in his low voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did Cas' story work for you? It makes sense in my own head, just not sure how it reads...


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, if any of you are still out there, here is the moment you've been waiting SOOOO FRICKIN' LONG for. Thanks for your patience.

Dean and Cas pounded their beers and dumped their food unceremoniously into the Styrofoam to-go containers when Benny returned with them. Dean pulled out his wallet and dropped a wad of bills on the table as they slid from the booth and headed out the door.

 

They drove a few miles before either of them said anything.

 

“Pull in here, Dean,” Cas' low voice rolled through the Impala. He pointed out the window at a cheap motel. Dean looked at Castiel in confusion. “My brother Gabriel is at my place, and you have a roommate, too, don't you?” Dean nodded.

 

“Yeah, Jo,” he said. “How-...how'd you know that?” Cas looked at him with undeniable lust in his eyes.

 

“Maybe I _have_ been keeping tabs on you.” He arched one brow at the man next to him. “And I don't want to have to worry about being quiet.”

 

Dean's blood rushed south at that.

 

They pulled into the parking lot of the motel and Dean killed the engine as Cas stepped from the car. Dean watched as Cas marched inside to book a room.

 

This was happening.

 

This was really happening!

 

Before Dean had a chance to collect his thoughts, Cas was back out on the sidewalk, walking toward a room, key in hand. Dean fumbled with the handle of the door; he couldn't get out of the car fast enough. Falling into step behind Castiel, Dean's heart rate revved as they stopped in front of one of the rooms. Cas opened the door without so much as a glance at the man behind him.

 

When Dean was through the door, Castiel closed it quickly, locking it behind them. Dean paused just inside the door, looking around at the room. It was neat and clean and suddenly obstructed by a mess of dark hair and full lips.

 

Cas slammed him against the locked door, claiming his mouth in a fevered kiss. Dean gasped at the suddenness of it, surprised by the aggression from someone who otherwise seemed so demure. Cas took the opportunity to dive in, licking his way inside Dean's supple mouth.

 

When Dean's brain caught up with the rest of him, he gripped Cas tight, pulling him closer and sliding his hands beneath the trench coat.

 

Cas moaned at the contact, sending a shiver down Dean's spine and the blood pooling to his groin. Dean tightened his hold on Cas, feeling the muscles of his back shift and flex beneath too many layers. Rocking his hips forward against Dean's, Cas moaned again at the answering hardness he felt there.

 

Dean slid his hands down to the full swell of Castiel's ass, squeezing the firm muscles there. He was rewarded with a cry of his own name and a roll of Cas' hips. Frenzied hands reached up, tugging his leather jacket and flannel shirt from his shoulders as Dean reached forward to undo the buttons of Cas' vest.

 

The kisses turned hungry, desperate, as Cas moved down Dean's neck.

 

“You called me an 'angel',” he said against Dean's warm skin as he slid his hands under Dean's t-shirt. Dean dropped his head back against the door behind him as he let the feel and sound of Cas wash over him. “That's why I wore the wings.” Cas dragged his teeth across Dean's Adam's apple.

 

“Fuck, Cas!” Dean panted. He surged forward, sealing his mouth over Cas' and pushing the coat and vest off his body. Once free of the fabric, Dean grabbed Cas' hips and spun him, pressing his back up against the wall. He nipped and sucked his way down Cas' neck as the dark-haired man let out a low, keening whine. “And the panties?” Dean rumbled into his collar, tugging his tie loose and flicking open the first few buttons of his shirt. Cas wrapped his arms up around Dean's neck, one hand carding through the back of his hair.

 

“I-” Cas gasped as Dean pressed up against him, “I heard a rumor...”

 

“Rhonda Hurley?” Dean smiled. Cas nodded, breathless.

 

“Rhonda Hurley.”

 

“So, you thought I'd want to see _you_ in them?” Dean's low voice sent shivers down Cas' spine.

 

“Uh huh,” he nodded again. Dean reached down, grabbed Cas by the thighs and heaved him up against the wall. He rocked his hips up against Cas' and Cas cried out at the sensation.

 

“I do, Cas,” Dean growled into his mouth, “I _do_ want to see you in them! Fuck, do I wanna see that!” He pressed Cas harder into the wall. “Wanna see you in them, all hard and dripping for me.” Cas' hand tightened in Dean's hair and he locked his legs around Dean's waist. “Wanna make you cum in them. Get them all messy for me.”

 

“Deeeeean! Please!” Cas whined. Dean slid one hand underneath Castiel's ass and the other around his waist, pulling him close and turning them toward the bed, their lips locked together; tongues and teeth clashing.

 

Dean crawled up on the bed, Cas still clutching him, and rocked his blue-eyed angel into the mattress. Cas moaned again at the press of Dean's hard cock against his own. He dropped his arms from around Dean's neck, rushing to kick off his shoes and undo Dean's jeans.

 

With one hand supporting himself, Dean reached his other down to tug open Castiel's jeans. He slid his hand over the sharp hipbone and inside the waist of both jeans and underwear. He was only disappointed for a moment when he realized Castiel was wearing men's briefs. It passed quickly, with the fleeting thought of 'next time', when Cas' hand was suddenly around him. He bucked into the touch with a hoarse moan, his head thrown back.

 

“Oh, fuck, Cas!” he babbled, his hand sliding down to grip Cas' ass. He dropped his head into the crook of Cas' neck, breathing him in. “I wanna see you, angel.” With one hand still wrapped around Dean, stroking him loosely, Cas undid the remaining buttons of his shirt.

 

Dean pressed himself up to watch each inch of skin as it was revealed. He slid one hand inside Cas' open shirt and smoothed the fabric off his shoulder, running his hand down Cas' arm as it slipped from the sleeve. He watched, mesmerized, as a flush worked it's way up Cas' toned body. Cas pulled his other arm free from the confines of the cotton dress shirt, and reached up, gripping the hem of Dean's shirt.

 

With one swift movement, Cas pulled it over Dean's head and tossed it on the floor. He trailed his hands down Dean's strong arms, watching his face as he studied Castiel's body. Dean met Cas' gaze as his hands found the waist of his pants and briefs. Cas nodded at him.

 

Dean's heart was racing as he tugged at the back of Cas' clothes. Cas lifted his hips as Dean worked the fabric down. The picture of Cas on the rug slipped fleetingly through his mind as he pulled and his breath caught at it. Delicately, Dean lifted the waistband of Cas' briefs up over the head of his cock and tugged them off the rest of the way.

 

When Cas was fully naked, Dean leaned back to take in the view.

 

Cas was even more spectacular in person and had only gotten better with age.

 

His firm muscles had filled out and his frame, though still lithe and lean, was sturdier. Healthier. Dean drank in the sight. His eyes trailed down the length of Cas' body as his hands slid up. They met at Cas' hips. Dean wrapped his hands, fingers spread wide, around Cas' pelvis. His eyes were locked on the thick length that curved upward toward Cas' stomach. Familiar and yet so new. Dean could see it jumping ever so slightly with Cas' heartbeat. A thin trail of precum spilled down onto the dark trail of fine hair that graced Cas' lower abdomen.

 

Cas settled his hands on Dean's wrists, and they hovered for a moment, both reeling to believe the other was there.

 

Dean moved suddenly, diving forward and swallowing Cas down whole. Cas arched up into the touch and his hands clenched around Dean's wrists. Bobbing and sucking, Dean savored the taste of Cas and relished the loud cry he dragged from him. Cas' hand slid up into Dean's hair, gripping tight, as he rocked up into the wet heat of Dean's mouth. Dean hummed in pleasure around the heavy girth in his mouth and Cas writhed below him.

 

“Deeean!” Cas wailed. He tugged on Dean's arm, pulling him off his cock and up his body. Dean rose slowly, kissing, licking and touching everything he could between Cas' cock and his full lips. He pressed his lips against the bend of Cas' neck, stretching his body out along Cas'.

 

Cas tucked his head into Dean's shoulder, pulling in a deep breath and letting it out on a choked off moan.

 

“You smell so good, Dean!” he panted. “Like leather and musk.” He turned his head to kiss and lick at the skin there. “That's why I was on the couch.” Dean pulled up to look down at Cas' face in confusion. “It reminded me of you, too. I...” he swallowed, his chest heaving with weighted breath, “I imagined it was the back seat of your car. Or that maybe I was laying on your jacket...”

 

Dean's pupils were blown wide, Cas' dark with hunger.

 

“Shit, Cas!” Dean breathed. Cas dragged his hands down Dean's warm skin, gripping the waist of his jeans and pressing at them.

 

“Please, Dean,” he whispered, “I need to see you, too.” Dean scrambled to rid himself of his boots and the rest of his clothes. When he moved to stretch over Cas once more, he was met with a palm to his chest. “Please.” Cas pressed back against Dean, forcing him to stand up at the end of the bed.

 

Cas sat up, scooted to the edge, and set his feet on the floor. He looked up at Dean, his eyes wide with excitement. Finally, Dean saw the intensity in those eyes he had been longing to find. His aching cock gave a needy throb at it.

 

Slowly, Castiel reached his hand out, setting it gently on Dean's hip. He traced up the length of Dean's torso with his fingertips. Dean flinched, smiling, at the tickling touch. A small smile danced across Cas' face and he increased the pressure of his hand enough not to tickle as he ran his palm across Dean's chest. Dean shuddered when Cas grazed his nipple, gasping at the contact. Cas froze. He looked up into Dean's face and repeated the motion. Dean's eyes slid closed and he moaned, low and needy. Cas huffed a tiny, lust filled sound at the reaction.

 

“Cas,” Dean whispered. Cas looked up into Dean's deep, green eyes and slid his hand down Dean's body. He raked his short nails through the thick, sandy curls a the base of Dean's cock, letting his eyes follow. He sighed when his gaze finally fell on Dean's hard length.

 

It was gorgeous. Thick and long and agonizingly hard, a bead of precum pearling on the tip, it was flushed a deep red. Cas traced the length of it with a single finger. When he reached the tip, he moved to the underside and rubbed the back of his finger up the thick, pulsing vein. Reaching the head again, he swiped up the moisture there with his thumb.

 

Dean watched through heavy lidded eyes as Cas brought his wet thumb up to his own mouth and licked the taste of Dean from him. Dean moaned at the sight, and Cas, eyes locked on Dean's, leaned forward to lick the tip of his leaking cock. Dean's hips rocked forward reflexively as Cas kitten-licked from base to tip. Carding a hand through Cas' hair, Dean's grip tightened when he felt Cas' warm hand cup his balls.

 

Cas gave a cry of pleasure at the firm grip, and Dean was immediately reminded of the centerfold photo of Cas just about to cum. His hand was tangled in his unruly hair, gripping tight. A wild thought struck Dean. He tugged at the dark, silky locks in his hand and Cas' eyes fell shut, his hips bucked forward and his other hand flew to Dean's hip.

 

Damn.

 

“Fuck, Cas!” Dean groaned, “like it when I tug on your hair?” Cas hummed his assent, nodding. He looked back up at Dean through his lashes as he pulled off.

 

“Uh huh,” his voice was wrecked. “Do it again.” Dean moaned at the request, tugging on Cas' hair once more.

 

“Dean!” Cas shouted, his body arching and his eyes falling shut. He looked exquisite. No camera could ever capture the true glory of Cas like this. It was otherworldly. Like this, he looked like an angel indeed.

 

Cas clutched at Dean pulling him closer.

 

“Please,” he begged, “need to feel you. Need you inside me!” He clenched his eyes shut, pulling at Dean's body. Dean slid his hand down to Cas' face, rubbing his thumb along the flush in his cheek. He knelt down between Cas' legs, seeking out his gaze. Cas squeezed his eyes tighter, leaning into the touch. Dean took his face in both hands.

 

“Cas,” Dean said quietly. Cas turned toward Dean's palm, brushing his lips against the skin of his wrist. “Hey, look at me.” Slowly, Cas brought his eyes up to Dean's. He searched Cas' face for any hint of hesitation. “We don't have to do this.”

 

Dean watched as a look of rejection settled over Cas' face.

 

“It's fine, Dean,” Cas dropped his gaze. “I'll go.” Dean tightened his grasp on Cas.

 

“No! Cas, that's not what I meant!” He shook his head vehemently. “I don't want you to go! I just want to be sure you _want_ this. I don't want you to do it because you feel like you _have to._ ” Cas' gaze flicked up to Dean's. “I can't, if that's why you're doing this. I just want you to be sure.” He stroked his thumb across the smooth skin of Cas' cheek once more. Cas raised his hands to grasp at Dean's arms. He gripped them tight, holding Dean's gaze.

 

“Dean, I've never been so sure of anything in my entire life,” Cas' stare was determined.

 

Slowly, gently, Dean leaned in. He brushed his lips across Cas', letting the spark there surge through his body.

 

“Me either, Cas,” he whispered against Cas' soft mouth. He pressed his lips to Cas', moving them easily. Cas' hands moved up Dean's arms and down his back, pulling Dean to him as he moved up the bed. Dean followed more than willingly.

 

Stretching out below him, Cas sighed as Dean settled over him. Dean slid one leg between Cas', tangling their limbs together and wrapped his arms around Cas, pulling him close and pressing their bodies together everywhere he could.

 

Cas' hands gripped at Dean, pleading for him to be closer. They rocked against one another, slowly, languidly, neither wanting it to end too soon. Cas slipped his legs free of Dean's and spread them wide, begging without words for Dean to settle deeper.

 

Happy to oblige, Dean rocked down against the man below him. The sweet friction of his leaking cock rubbing against Cas' was almost too much for Dean to handle. His head swam with the pleasure of it.

 

“Dean,” Cas whispered against his skin. “Do you have...?” He let the question trail off, as Dean's hips rocked down once more.

 

“Yeah.” Dean breathed, “in my wallet.” He worked his way down Cas' body, kissing and caressing as he went. He scooted off the edge of the bed, still rubbing at Cas' leg with one hand, while digging through the pockets of his discarded clothing with the other. He plucked a condom and a packet of lube from the inside of his wallet before tossing it back onto the floor. Dean moved up the bed with the same attention to Cas as before. When he reached Cas' mouth once more, Dean nipped and kissed gently at it, claiming it with tenderness as he tore open the packet of lube and coated his fingers.

 

Cas spread his legs wide once more, giving Dean permission. He wrapped his arms up around Dean's neck when he felt the press of a finger at his entrance.

 

Slowly, Dean circled his finger around Cas' hole, teasing at the muscle there and moaning when he felt the responding flutter of anticipation. Dean rubbed across it, coating Cas in the slick substance. Gently, he increased the pressure until Cas' body relaxed enough to let Dean's finger in.

 

Cas' breath hitched at the breach, and he rocked down against Dean's hand.

 

Dean slipped his finger in and out, twisting it now and then, and pressing deeper with each stroke. He let his gaze wander the length of Cas' body, watching the beautiful flush spread across his skin.

 

“God, you're gorgeous, Cas.” Dean sighed as he pressed a second finger inside.

 

Cas' eyes slipped shut, and his back arched as Dean began to stretch him, scissoring his fingers. He shuddered, crying out when Dean's seeking hands finally found his prostate.

 

“Dean! Oh, God, yes!” Cas cried out as Dean stroked over it again.

 

Dean's hard cock gave a needy throb at the reaction. He leaned down to swallow the moans he pulled from Cas as he continued to work him open.

 

“More, Dean,” Cas breathed. “I need more.”

 

With a deep, erotic kiss, Dean pressed another finger inside Cas. He pressed up against Cas' sweet spot, keeping even pressure on it and rubbing gasps and moans from him.

 

“You like that, too, Cas?” Dean kissed across his jaw.

 

“Dean!” Cas' hands clutched at Dean's skin, clawing at his back at the nearly overwhelming sensation.

 

Dean groaned at the rough contact, and his hips rocked down. He sped up the movement of his hand, stretching Cas wider.

 

“Please, Dean. I want to feel you inside me!” Cas rocked down into Dean's hand, fucking himself on Dean's fingers.

 

Dean pulled them slowly from the warmth of Cas. He lifted himself up, kneeling between Cas' legs, and grabbed the condom. Tearing into it with his teeth, Dean made quick work of putting it on and coating his hard length with lube. He shifted, leaning down over Cas and supporting himself with one hand. With the other, he guided his cock to Cas' entrance, pressing up against it. He looked down into Cas' lust blown eyes and watched them flutter shut as he pushed forward into the man he had longed for for so many years. Dean's mouth fell open at the all consuming feeling of Cas' tight heat. He could feel Cas trembling beneath him, and ran a soothing hand up and down the outside of his thigh.

 

When he had relaxed, Cas rocked his hips down, begging Dean to move. His hands became sweaty, and his purchase on Dean's back began to slip; he gripped tighter.

 

Dean pressed himself fully against Cas, trapping his leaking and neglected cock between their stomachs, and Cas moaned at the long desired friction. Slowly, Dean pulled back, savoring the drag of himself within Cas.

 

“Fuuuck,” he groaned at the delectable feeling. He snapped his hips forward, forcing a cry of pleasure from Cas. Dean was sure he wasn't going to last long. The anticipation had been building within him for years, and to have it there, right in front of him; surrounding him, was too much. He wrapped his arms underneath Cas' lithe body, pulling him close as he rocked in and out of him. “Cas...” Dean wasn't even certain he could string together two intelligent thoughts. His mind was too full of CasCasCas to think or say anything else.

 

“Dean,” Cas held him closer. “Faster, please!”

 

Dean was happy to comply, picking up his speed and thrusting harder. He could feel the sparks of heat coiling low in his belly; the tell tale signs of his imminent release building like a storm in summer.

 

“Cas.” He panted into the smooth skin of Cas' neck. “Cas, 'm not gonna last long, baby.”

 

A choked moan broke from Cas at the endearment, and he arched up against Dean, his own pleasure racing toward climax.

 

“Dean!” Cas' rough voice pleaded. “Touch me. Please!”

 

“Anything, angel!” Dean nodded, pulling away to kneel up between Cas' spread legs. “Anything you want.” He rubbed his hand against Cas' cheek.

 

Cas whined at the loss of contact.

 

Dean bent down and kissed him gently.

 

“Please, Cas.” Dean whispered against his lips. “I wanna watch you cum for me. Can I?”

 

Cas' eyes slipped shut again, and he nodded as Dean smoothed his hands soothingly over the soft skin of his stomach.

 

With consent, Dean knelt up, pulling Cas toward his hips and running his hands up and down the inside of his firm thighs. He slid one hand up to grip Cas, who gasped at the contact, his eyes going wide. Dean thrust into Cas firmly, and knew his aim had hit home when Cas' whole body went tense.

 

“That's it, Cas.” Dean encouraged as he began to stroke Cas' length, firm and sure. “Let go, baby. Let me see what happened just after that last picture you took.” Cas' body was flushed and taught, hovering on the edge of his release. “Let me hear you cry out when you cum.” He was mesmerized by the sight of Cas below him, and of his own cock disappearing into the heat and velvet of Cas' channel. His voice dropped; low and rough. “Let me hear you say my name.” He stroked up Cas' shaft, twisting his wrist when he reached the head, and swiping his thumb across the tip. “ _Please_ , Cas,” he begged. Dean was so close. He wasn't sure he could hold out much longer.

 

That one word; that one entreaty of ' _please_ ' falling from Dean's lips was what finally sent Cas over the edge. His muscles tightened, his cock hardened, and with a loud, long, rough cry of Dean's name, he spilled his release over the warm fist of the man above him.

 

Dean had never seen or heard anything so beautiful in all his life as Cas falling apart beneath him. The image and sound would be burned into his memory for the rest of his life. He was certain that, if there was such a thing as Heaven, this was it; him buried balls deep in an angel, dragging a mind-blowing orgasm from both of them.

 

With one last, firm thrust, Dean's orgasm pumped from him. He pressed himself deep, holding on to Cas' hips, as the waves of his own pleasure coursed through him, leaving him weak. At last, he pulled from Cas gingerly, and sat back on his heels. With trembling fingers, he removed the condom, tying it off and tossing it in the trash can near the nightstand.

 

He looked down at Cas, still flushed, and coated in his own release. Dean leaned down, his trembling arms barely able to hold him up over the blue-eyed man, and kissed him gently until he felt Cas smile.

 

“Don't go anywhere,” Dean smiled back at him.

 

“Okay,” Cas nodded. He pulled his lower lip into his mouth and bit down on it.

 

Dean's cock made a valiant effort to rally for a second round at the sight. With a sigh, he moved off the bed and made his way into the bathroom on shaky legs. He returned to Cas a moment later with a warm, wet washcloth and a dry towel. With tenderness, Dean cleaned and dried Cas' skin. He tossed the cloths onto the nightstand, turned off the light, and stretched himself out next to Cas.

 

With a press to Cas' hip, Dean indicated for him to roll to his side. Dean scooted up behind him, aligning their bodies from shoulders to knees. He wrapped his arm around Cas and tugged him nearer; spooning him as closely as he could.

 

Long silent minutes of contentment followed.

 

But eventually the silence grew awkward for Cas.

 

“Dean?” he whispered into the darkness of the room. He wasn't even sure if Dean was still awake.

 

“Yeah?” Dean's voice, thick with sleep answered against the back of Cas' neck.

 

It took a moment for Cas to gather his courage.

 

“...What happens now?” He could hear the fear in his own voice, and he was terrified of what answer might come next.

 

“Now we sleep, Cas.” Dean nuzzled against him.

 

Cas swallowed hard, knowing he needed to make Dean understand what he meant, and loathe to break the moment.

 

“And after that?” Cas' voice was trembling now.

 

A long quiet moment followed, and Cas held his breath.

 

“Then we go get breakfast.” Dean stroked a soothing hand down Cas' side before wrapping it tighter around his body. He took a deep breath and yawned. “And then I help Jo pack her shit and move out, 'cause I can't afford to pay for motel rooms all the time, and I don't ever want you to have to be quiet, angel.” Dean pressed a lingering kiss to the back of Cas' shoulder. “Sound good to you, baby?”

 

“Yeah,” Cas smiled widely, settling closer to Dean. “Sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good Lord!!! I'm so sorry it took me this long to finish this work. For any of you still holding out for this, I hope this ending was worth it! All my love to you. L & m

**Author's Note:**

> So what do you think happens next?


End file.
